Is It Wrong? | Sope

Chapter 5

Yoongi POV

Sighing quietly to myself, I slowly close the door to my studio before leaning my head against the cool glass. Closing my eyes for a moment, I take a deep breath in attempt to wrap my head around all of this.

I still can't believe I'm fucking working with Jhope. With Jung Hoseok. I have to admit, I've been watching him for a little while now. He's an extremely talented dancer, well known all over Seoul and Korea for that matter. I've not paid a huge amount of attention to him lately since I've been caught up in my writing and composing, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's known around the world. I know he's been dancing for quite some time now, longer than I've been making music.

I didn't necessarily want to be a complete dick to him today. In all honesty, that's part of why I gave him the small smile at the end before leaving. I don't want my reputation ruined though. I've always been known as a stand offish person, I don't let people in. Namjoon is the only person that I've let inside in years. The last time I let someone in aside from him was my ex... And I know fully well that if I even bother being kind to him, letting this become anything further than professional, that I'll fall.

I've seen some of the videos. Some of the interviews. Hoseok is a wonderful person and an amazing dancer. I've seen his work. I've seen the results of his work. What he's done for others and the work he's produced himself. Not only is he hard working, determined, and extremely talented, but he's absolutely gorgeous. The full package. And it was clear just now when meeting with him just how kind he is. So sweet, and he wanted so badly for things to be good between us.

Biting my lip lightly, I stand back upright and move to sit down in my chair. Sighing softly, I lean back in my chair and run my hands through my hair, tugging lightly. Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a few deep breaths.

Looking back up at the ceiling in my studio, I purse my lips. If I keep up the front then everything will be okay. Nothing will happen if I keep the front up, don't let him in, don't let him get close. It's not like he would want anything to do with me anyways. Nothing serious, that is. Hell, nobody would these days. And quite frankly, I can't blame any of them. It's a fucking miracle that Namjoon even bothers staying by my side these days.

Shaking my head lightly to myself, I spin my chair around to face my desk. Biting my lower lip, I rest my chin in my hand as I decide to put the new album I've just finished on replay for a while. Humming along softly, I contemplate working on an extra song for it. I've thought about it for a while now, but I've been on the fence considering how well everything has been going with this album. The fans have been looking forward to it for a while now and I don't want to let them down by adding an extra song onto it and ruining the entire damn thing.

Tapping my fingers lightly against the top of my desk, I decide upon pulling my phone out. Continuing to hum softly, I pull up Twitter and type out a tweet. It takes just a few seconds, but the moment it's out, a small smile dawns my pale lips as I watch the comments almost instantly rolling in.

Min_AgustD: Anyone interested in an extra track on the new album coming out soon? Can't wait for everyone to hear it!

As always, there's tons of kind comments, a few people actually taking the time to read what I've posted and respond appropriately. Although, just like usual, there's those pesky hurtful hate comments that come mixed in with the rest.

Sighing, my lips form a slight pout as I exit off of Twitter and close my phone. Tossing it down onto the desk, I groan and run my hands through my hair once again. There's a reason I stay off social media. There's a reason I'm hardly ever on, and if I am, I usually refuse to actually read the comments. The hate comments always hit the insecurities, hitting me where I'm weak even though I never show it. It all comes out eventually though. Through the music, through the videos. The pain always comes through.

It's one reason people find it easy to argue whether I actually belong here or not. Some say it makes me a whiner, that I always express myself through my music. Whether it's pain, whether it's hardships, whether it's the real fucking world of shit. Some just call it whining, that I don't belong and clearly can't handle the shit. Others find it respectable. Being able to admit that life isn't fucking easy, and still trying to uplift others and let them know that they're not alone.

Whimpering softly, I rub my hands over my face a few times. Life really is a bitch sometimes.